


Goblin King

by OTPAlchemist99



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Ending, Attempt at Humor, Beverly is a Goddess, Bisexual Eddie Kaspbrak, Coming Out, Consent is Sexy, Divorce, Eddie doesn't die, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Richie Tozier, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Not Beta Read, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, POV Richie Tozier, Pennywise is kind of a match maker, Richie Tozier is a Mess, and a good friend, but not really, if you are uncomfortable by it please don't read, just talked about, self-deprication, slight fuck or die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-01-30 23:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPAlchemist99/pseuds/OTPAlchemist99
Summary: “Alright, I’ll confess.” He lets out a sigh and turns to his friend. “I totally fucked your mom and wife, and it was the naaasstiest-""Stop. Just stop." Eddie says mouth setting into a line.Richie clenches his jaw, temple twitching. "No, you stop. What did it sound like, Einstein? Solve the riddle. Closets and dirty little secrets. What do you think? Come on, say it. Or can you not come to terms with the fact that your friend is a fag?"OrRichie and Eddie have a bigger scene in the cavern than what is shown in the movie.Afterwards they have to work through their misunderstandings and issues before they all go their separate ways.Aka Horror meets RomCom
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 37
Kudos: 257





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Yo!  
Thank you so much for being interested in my story! This fic came about when I got to thinking about the scene in the cavern with Bev and Ben versus the one with Richie and Eddie. Bev and Ben had a very moving and intense romantic scene and since I am an avid shipper of Richie and Eddie I began image one for them. And then I thought of this kinky and dark fic. Basically I took out the 'three door scene' and added my own. Also, of course, Eddie doesn't die damn it.
> 
> Lastly, please read the tags.  
A lot of the internal self-loathing comes from my own struggles with my sexuality and I know it makes some people uncomfortable. Please take care of yourself and don't read if it will upset you. 
> 
> With all that being said, I hope you guys enjoy! I have 3/4th of the story done and plan to update frequently.

***Richie's POV***

“Shit. Where are we?”

"Hell if I know, man." Richie says kicking a rock, the clattering of it an endless echo in front and behind them.

The cave is dim with beams of light crossing haphazardly in a patchwork that illuminates the endless dark tunnel. They have been wandering down the path for about five minutes without a scene or stone change. They could be walking in a fucking circle for all Richie knew though it doesn't feel like it. It just feels like they are being lead, and if it's where Pennywise wants them to go he doubts there will be cookies and candy at the end…

_Maybe if those cookies are evil gingerbread men with candy cane ice picks._

Richie shakes he head to clear the image from it. Hell-to-the-no is he going to give that _Thing_ ideas on how to kill him.

"Hey, numb skull." Eddie says snapping his fingers in from of his face. "Did you hear what I said?"

Richie slaps the hand out of his face and glares only for his eyes to lock into Eddie’s dark orbs, closer than he expected. His eyes dart away as he takes a step back, cheeks burning. "Sorry, hard to hear you all the way down there."

"Fuck off. I asked if you heard that grinding sound."

"What grinding sound?"

Which is the moment the tunnel they are in gives a small rumble. Eddie and Richie freeze, matching wide eyes locked on each other.

"Okay. You had to have heard that."

"Of course I heard that. I have glasses. I'm blind, not deaf."

Eddie's jaw clenches. “Stop being an ass. I'm only asking.”

Richie rolls his eyes and continues walking. "Yeah, well, you ask stupid questions when you’re scared."

He hears a scoff and the then sound of Eddie clamoring to follow.

“No I don’t.” Eddie replies, his voice taking on that 'know it all tone', the same one he gets when he starts to tell one of the Losers how the deodorant they use is going to give them cancer or whatever other deadly disease he has learned about that week.

"_No I don't._" Richie parrots back, stifling a smile. A mad Eddie can't be scared. Maybe he can keep it up till the meet back up with the others.

"Richie...."

"Yes, Edward." Richie responds in a sweet voice, turning to appreciate the infuriated look on his friend's face.

Only Eddie isn't looking at him. He is looking behind them, down the hall where the wall is sliding closer. Richie blinks and pushes his glasses up before what he is seeing washes over him like cold water.

"Richie is that..."

"Eddie, please tell me you have your inhaler." Richie says, taking a step back. "Cuz we need to run."

That's all the prompting Eddie needs before he is bolting down the hall. Richie springs into action after that, body unlocking from rigor mortis. They sprint down the tunnel, eyes searching for an intersecting path or even a small cove they can duck into. But nothing shows up in the blemish free stone tunnel. The only thing that changes is the tunnel starts to slope down and the grinding sound of the stone picks up speed.

Air wheezes out of Richie as he runs, legs burning and making him wish he spent more time at the gym than bars. Eddie, despite his asthma, doesn't seem as winded and is easily keeping ten feet ahead of him. Ice forms in his stomach, unsure how much longer he will be able to keep this up, when Eddie shouts in relief.

"Left! Left up ahead!" Eddie yells behind him as they sprint down the damp cavern. Richie sees what he means a moment later, a small gap appearing up ahead in the rock.

Eddie reaches it first, turning side ways to squeeze through the narrow entrance, green jacket disappearing into the dark crevasse. Richie doesn't hear a scream so he assume Eddie isn't being murdered by a creepy ass clown on the other side, at least not yet anyways, which is all the confirmation Richie needs before following suit. He fits his left side and his head in before rock starts to scrape against his bare arm and dread settles in.

The crevasse isn't even. It in fact narrows slightly as he squeezes himself further in. Eddie being smaller and, obvious from his stamina, way more fit than him, and with a nice ass, slid through no problem. Richie on the other hand is taller and has had more old fashions than is probably deemed healthy by a doctor, and is getting snagged on the rock wall.

"Eddie..." Richie calls into the dark, stretching his hand out into the dark cavern in front of him. "Hey Eddie, fucking help me. I think I'm stuck."

His words are swallowed by the pitch darkness, the grinding picking up speed to his right. Swallowing, Richie grips the edge of the crevasse and starts to pull, fingers digging into the jagged rock as his elbow scrapes on the sandstone.

"Eddie. Come on, man." Richie says breath ragged as he pulls himself forward a couple inches. It's almost enough, his right shoulder finally sliding into the crack. Too bad his arm is still completely out.

Richie pants, sweat dripping down his forehead as he wiggles forward a little more. Sharp stones dig into his ribs with every inhale and hot breath fans over his face with each exhale. It's probably the only this keeping him from hyperventilating at this point, his thoughts spiral downward as the sound of the boulder gets louder.

What if this is all fake? What if he was following a fake Eddie down a fucking hall to nowhere until he is lead to his death and slowly is crushed to death in the dark? Or worse, Eddie was with him and is now being ripped to pieces while he is stuck here unable to do anything about it.

"Eddie." He screams, voice high as he reaches out once more in the dark. That's when something warm touches him, iron claws digging into his forearm before giving a hard yank.

Skin scrapes across rock as he is pulled forward and free, feet stumbling to keep up with his momentum as he tumbles forward. Richie crashes into a solid body, taking it with him as he falls into a web of limbs.

"Ow." A voice groans, vibration travel into Richie's ear through the chest he is laying on. "Please get off. You are way too heavy."

Richie scrambles up and away from Eddie, heart in his throat as he pulls a hand through his curls. "What the fuck man?"

"Yeah, you're welcome." Eddie says, brushing his clothes as he stands. "Seriously, what is your problem? I just saved your life."

His mouth falls open before his can snap it shut. "Yeah, and taking your sweet time doing it. Besides, it is your fault the boulder was there in the first place."

"What? Me!?"

"You were always scared of that scene in Temple of Doom."

His friend scoffs. "Uh, that was your favorite movie."

"Yeah but I didn't scream like a little girl when we watched it."

"No but you gripped my hand so hard I had to wear a splint for a week. Also, look where we are."

Richie opens his mouth to deny the sprain and that Eddie is just being a hypochondriac when his eyes finally take in the very familiar room. His face goes slack. "uh... Why are we in my childhood bedroom?"

"That's what I was getting at, dumb ass." Eddie says crossing his arms. "I'm pretty sure IT is channeling your psyche."

"And what a perverted, twisted psyche is it," growls a voice to their right.

Both of them jump closer, and turn towards it. The closet is cracked open, bright orange eyes peaking at them from the depths. Richie's breath catches in his throat, heart banging against his chest as the doors spread open like curtains. Hinges squeaking with a dying groan.

Pennywise unfolds himself from his crouch position inside the closet, limbs expanding till he towers over them, crooked yellow grin cutting across his white face. As he stands the room dims, darkness spilling out of the closet behind him like a fog. Richie throws an arm over Eddie, pulling him back until wood bangs against their calves, asses meeting mattress with a bounce.

"Tell him, Richie." Pennywise croons, taking a step forward. "Tell your dear friend here about the dark vile thing in your heart. All the dirty, twisted thoughts you've had. Had about him...."

Richie's breath kicks out of him, stomach rolling as the underline meaning sinks in. He swallows, Eddie's proximity making him itch where they touch. He almost puts space between them but he doesn't dare leave Eddie unprotected. Though he’s doubting now how much he will be able to.

"Ooooo, tell him, Richie." The clown says with a shimmy, eyes and smile flashing with morbid delight. "Tell him. He's dying to hear your confession, and will if you don't."

Eddie let's out a shaky breath. "Richie, what is he-"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Richie says cutting Eddie off. Maybe he can play dumb long enough for them go escape.

Pennywise growls, an icy draft blowing over them as his thin red lips pulling back over too much gum and jagged teeth, drool dripping down his chin in a feral display. "I think you do. And Eddie here is going to die unless you SPILL. YOUR. GUTS."

With a pop the clown disappears, dark shadows and cold following just as fast, an eerily quiet settles.

Richie takes a deep breath and licks him lips. "That was weird." He says with a strained chuckle. "Well, let's get the fuck out of here and find the-"

He stands and stop, eyes darting around the room for the crack, the one they squeezed through. Only all four walls are intact without any crevasse or door except for his closet, crowded with board games, clothes and Lego boxes. The only thing out of place being the message on the wall above his bed, _find the clue to find the exit_, written is red.

"Shit..." Richie says spinning around the room. "Shit, Eddie, we-"

He glances back at his friend, mouth poised to demand where the hell the exit went when he sees Eddie curled up on the bed.

"Eddie?" He says as he scrambles back to the bed, throat tight as he turns his friend on to his back. He rolls over easy, brows furrowed and eyes closed. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

Brown eyes crack open, forehead relaxing in relief. "Sorry. I just got a splitting headache all of a sudden."

Richie’s shoulders relax, lips pulling into a small smile. "God, I wish you still carried your stupid fanny pack. You had everything in there."

Eddie's lips twitch into a smile. "Shut it and help me up."

"Did you forget who you are talking to?" Richie replies as he helps Eddie sit up. "By the way, did you see where the exit went?"

"Sorry, no. I was a little busy worrying about the killer clown coming out of your closet."

Richie huffs out a laugh at the irony there.

"Yeah, can't fault you there. I feel like there is a Killer Clown for Outer Space joke there but I'm kind of too scared to think of it." Richie say, pulling away once Eddie is steady on his feet.

"Well IT is a killer clown. And from what Mike said it kind of sounds like it came from-" Eddie cries out and flops back onto the bed, hands gripping the sides of his head.

"Ah! Fuck, fuck..." Eddie pants, eyes screwed shut.

Richie runs forward, hands hovering over his friend, as his gaze darts around the room for something... anything.

"Richie." Eddie says with a cry, eyes popping open.

They are brimmed with tear and glazed as he shouts at the ceiling. He blinks, a tear running down his face leaving a red trail. Richie falls forward over his friend and brushes his cheek, catching the watery red liquid on his fingertips.

Richie's hands shakes as he brings it up between them, eyes wide. "Shit Eddie, you’re crying blood."

He gets a soft sigh in answer.

"Don't- don't stop. Don't stop touching me." Eddie says voice quivering as he takes large gulps of air. "Please..."

Richie blinks and scoots forward, bring his hand back to Eddie's face. "Sorry. I- is that better?"

Eddie's breathe slows and he nods, blinking and wiping his eyes. He glances at his hands tinged pink. "Richie, what the hell is going on?"

"You got cursed by a douche bag clown?" Richie supplies with a crooked smile.

“Okay…” Eddie says taking a couple slow breaths between his teeth. “Okay, we are fine, cuz we know how to fix it, right?”

Eddie looks up at him, eyes expecting and demanding. As if it should be easy, as if memories of faces painted with disgust and a soul drenched in shame don't dance behind his eyelids late at night. He looks away.

“Alright, I’ll confess.” He lets out a sigh and turns back to his friend. “I totally fucked your mom and wife, and it was the naaasstiest-“

"Stop. Just stop." Eddie says mouth setting into a line.

Richie clenches his jaw, temple twitching. "No, you stop. What did it sound like, Einstein? Solve the riddle. Closets and dirty little secrets. What do you think? Come on, say it. Or can you not come to terms with the fact that your friend is a fag?"

Richie cuts himself off with a gasp, eyes sting as he bites his lip, bile rising and threatening to spill out much like his words. _Fitting for Trash Mouth Richie._

_Dirty, perverted faggot Ri-_

"Richie." Finger tips touch his face making his jerk back. He didn't even realize he'd shut his eyes until he opens them to soft brown ones looking up at him.

"I don't care. Really. I don't care, Richie." Eddie gives a wistful smile. "Don't you know you'll always be a Loser?"

A huffed laugh falls out of Richie before he sobers up. Eyes fall away again. It's not like that's _all_ IT wanted him to say.

"I use to have a crush on you." Richie says with a swallow, continuing to stare as Eddie's chest, eyes glued to his clavicle. The admittance pulls at his gut, twisting and twirling his intestines like noodles on a fork. Instead, he shakes it off and smiles.

Rip off one Band-Aid, slap on another.

"Whelp, now that we are done with that awkward confession let's work on getting out of here." Richie says pulling away, ready to crack jokes and pretend like he didn't just vivisect himself. But as they disconnection Eddie let's out a gasp.

"No, no, no." He grabs Riche’s hand before he can fully get up and pulls him back down making him collapse half on top of him. His face scrunches up as he grinds the bones in Richie's hand together. "Curse not gone, curse definitely not gone."

"Ow, okay. Just-" Richie grabs Eddie's wrist and shakes his hand till he lets go of his death grip. "Don't break my hand."

"It would serve you, right."

Richie scoffs. "Why? Because you are a hypochondriac and think your bones are made of glass or because I had big, gay feelings for you and got you cursed?"

Eddie cracks his eyes and glares. "No, because there is clearly something else you haven’t told me or the curse would be gone!"

"He's a fucking Killer Clown from Outer Space, why should we trust anything he says."

Eddie laughs before he can click his jaw shut. "Don't make me laugh. I'm mad at you."

Seriously, why is Eddie so fucking pissed? It's not like _he_ just confessed an embarrassing secret to his crush for no reason. It got them nowhere and now he looks like an ass.

"Well too bad! You’re kind of stuck with me for the mean time. So let's just look for a way out instead of holding hands and having a heart-to-heart."

"Fine."

"Fine." Richie stands and jerks Eddie up by their linked hands. His friend stumbles forward, landing himself into Richie's arms.

Eddie glances up at him, cheeks flaring red as he pulls away, muttering 'asshole' under his breath, making Richie smile. Maybe they will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the hand you want to hold is a weapon and  
you're nothin' but skin


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would have followed all the way, no matter how far

***Eddie’s POV***

They search the room for a half an hour without finding anything, just half-finished homework shoved in drawers and old toys Richie has lost. Eddie groans as his friend's eyes light up at the He-Man action figure he finds under the bed. He holds it aloft like a trophy. He looks so adoring at the half naked, scuffed up doll that Eddie is tempted to make a quip about Richie getting a room for him and He-Man.

Luckily, the comment dies in his throat.

Richie had mentioned the first night at dinner that he didn't date. Eddie had just assumed it was because he is busy. He can relate. Now he's not so sure that's the reason at all. _Has Richie been keeping his sexuality a secret this whole time because of work or something else?_

He wants to ask, take the time and make sure Richie is okay, but he hasn’t even looked him in the eye since the confession and Eddie can’t imagine it will go much different than before anyways. He sighs. _Why is it when there is something important to talk about all we do is bicker? _

Eddie shakes the thought off and rubs at his temple with his free hand.

If the fact they haven't found something even close to a clue yet isn't bad enough, the splitting headache is creeping up again, crawling up the base of his skull and settling behind his eyes where it throbs. And it’s not because they have stopped their hand holding either. They haven’t let go since they realized it’s the key to keeping his head form exploding, Richie’s strong, warm grip a very prominent presence in his mind. Eddie’s face flushes as he cuts a glance at his friend.

Seeing Richie again for the first time at the Red Dragon was… reality shifting. An ache in his life, a need felt in his core until the moment his eyes landed on this lanky, loud- mouth. Memories of walking to school with him and sharing homework. Night talking to him on the phone for hours when his mom wouldn’t let him leave the house. Punches from Henry Bower taken for him in a fight… Someone so pivotal. _How could he have forgotten him?_

Eddie sighs and sits down on the Richie’s bed. "Well, this has been a bust."

Richie doesn’t look up, just keeps fiddling with the He-Man on the floor. "I don't know if it was a complete bust…"

"Yeah, finding junk you lost as a kid is not helpful to us escaping. Or me getting un-cursed."

"Are you sure you are even still cursed? Maybe our long intimate hand holding did cure you. It just needed time to incubate."

"Yeah. Definitely not that." Eddie says grimacing as a needle works its way in further. "I've actually been thinking."

Richie sits the action figure on the bed next to him and bends it into a suggestive pose, hands framing its crotch... "Well now I am scared."

“Fuck off and listen." Eddie says tossing the doll across the room. "I've been thinking about what that _Thing_ said, maybe it's less something that's here and more something that's not."

Richie frowns, looking longingly across the room before turning to him. "Well if you expect me to remember something that's missing we might be here for a while. I didn't even remember anything about Derry until two days ago."

"We don't have a while." Eddie says looking anywhere but at his friend. "My head is hurting again. It has been for the past ten minutes and its only getting worse."

"Eddie, what the hell?"

“Well telling you wasn't going to help us look faster.” Eddie says running a hand over his mouth. “We looked all around your room and now we are back to same goddamn place we started at.”

He punches the mattress, heat rolling off him. This is worse than being attacked, this slow creeping death. Just helpless to wait and let Richie watch him choke on blood. Maybe the clown it just toying with them and-

"Did you hear that?" Richie asks eyes wide as he grabs Eddie’s clenched fist still dug into the mattress.

"Hear what?" Eddie asks.

Richie doesn’t answer, just let’s go of his fist and drags his hand down to where mattress meets the auburn frame. His hand disappears between them, arm sliding in past his elbow until he stops, eyes going wide. "There is something under here."

Eddie jumps off the bed and knees next to Richie, clenching his friend’s hand harder. "Do you remember hiding things under your bed as a kid?"

"Nah, I have a shoebox in the closet for my really kinky stuff." Richie says lips twitching as he drags the object out.

They both lean forward, hunching over the clue as Richie finally pulls out... lube.

Eddie leans back with a sigh. "Well great, another bust." He says with a dry laugh. "Let's just look around the room again."

He stands, tugging on Richie’s hand but he doesn’t move, or more accurately hasn’t, and is still staring wide eyed at the bottle. _Maybe he's embarrassed that they found it?_

"Eddie…" Richie says, voice tight. His eyes are wide, and the fear there makes Eddie’s stomach curdle.

"What?"

Richie holds up the small bottle of lube to him, blue label facing out. Eddie looks at it and back at him, an eyebrow raised until Richie presses it into his empty hand. He brings it closer but it looks normal to him, almost looks like the KY brand he has at home.

He opens his mouth, about to ask Richie why he is so freaked about lube, when he sees it. Eddie’s breath kicks out of him, hand loosening on the bottle. It falls on the bed, bouncing once before landing label up as if staring back at him. Taunting him.

"Why does that bottle say 'for Eddie'?" He whispers, gaze frozen on it.

Richie shakes his head and refuses to look at him. "I don't know."

"Really? Cuz I'm pretty sure I know what it's suggesting."

"Like I said, stupid questions."

"Seriously, man?" Eddie says, free hand tearing at his hair. "You are really going to make jokes when it looks like a fucking evil clown is going to make us-"

"Stop." Richie says standing to grip his shoulders. "We aren't and we won't. He's just fucking with us. We'll look around the room again and-"

"And what?" Eddie says staring up at his friend. At the extra contact the tension in his neck eases, pain receding like cool water down his scalp. His eyes prick despite the relief. The twisted, fucked up relief. "We already looked everywhere, Rich. We could tear up the floor boards and not find anything."

Richie pulls away with a growl but grabs Eddie's hand in a rough grip. "We are going to keep searching until we find something _or think of something_ that doesn't-" He closes his eyes. "Until we think of something that doesn't end with me assaulting my best friend."

Eddie looks at Richie, eyes wide as the air goes out of him like a red balloon, shoulders sagging inward.

"Let's just look again, alright?" Richie says voice tight.

He nods even though Richie doesn't wait for his approval. He just walks them over to the closet, the farthest they can get from the bed, and starts to dig through a bucket of Legos. His jaw tight as he scatters red, blue, and yellow squares across the floor.

Eddie glances to the bed, eyes falling to the small little bottle resting on top of it. A memory of them watching a movie there flashing in his mind, Richie asleep and resting on him. Warmth floods him as another, similar, memory replaces it, then another.

He glances back at Richie, reality, like at the Red Dragon, shifting again.

***Richie’s POV***

“So I'm not hiding Narnia in my closet, and I've pulled out every book on my shelves… Whelp, I'm all out of ideas on how to find a secret passage."

Eddie grunts, collapsing at Richie's desk, head resting in his hand. "Well that might be because this isn't an episode of Scooby-Doo."

"Well if it was I'd definitely be Shaggy." He says stroking his chin as if he has any facial hair before looking Eddie up and down.

"What?" Eddie asks shifting in his chair.

"Definitely a Velma." Richie replies with a nod. "All 'where's my glasses, where's my glass', except trade glasses with inhaler."

Eddie looks away and rolls his eyes but his lips pull into a smile, soothing the knot in Richie's chest. At least he can do this right.

His friend sighs. "Okay, so to get us back on a topic that is helpful, what are we going to do?"

"Sit in a circle? Sing ‘Kumbaya’?"

Eddie shakes his head, eye wide with disbelief at how blasé he is acting but really, he is already in his living hell.

The moment Richie feared most, coming out, has already become a much worse reality. Every moment he spends with Eddie he can feel a sympathetic gaze following his around the room. Warm brown eyes wanting to comfort the queer kid, as if Eddie isn’t in his worst nightmare as well.

Pennywise basically shoved his perverted feelings in both of their faces, making Richie admit how much he wants Eddie before finally gift wrapping them lube like some twisted fucking present. He can only imagine how disgusted his friend is, how much he probably doesn't want to be in the same room as him let alone be touching him. But then again what choice does Eddie have? 

Eddie rubs his temple, something he's been doing increasingly in the past ten minutes. Richie hopes it’s because he is annoyed with him instead of what his gut is tells him it is.

"Will you please be serious for a moment? We've been in here for what feels like half an hour but it could be longer, and if time is the same in here as it is out there then Mike, Ben, and Bev could've been shredded already."

"Yes, let's worry about things we can't control, makes loads of sense." Richie says with a sigh.

Eddie stares ahead and purses his lips together. "There are things we could be trying-"

"Don't." Richie says tensing and shifting away, but of course Eddie won't let the idea die.

"It’s fine, Richie. Trust me." Eddie says leaning forward, forcing him to meet his eye. "This won't break us. I-" He falters, face flushing. "I’ll be fine."

Richie’s jaw clenches at the resolution hardening in his friends eyes. Because of course he would throw himself under the bus, too worried about everyone else to be concerned about himself. As if he will be the only one effected by this.

"Fine." Richie says glaring down at him. "Then it will break_ me_. Even if you could block it out and save yourself mentally, I-” He looks away, jaw clenching as bile rises in his throat, stomach twisting at the thought. “I can't hurt you like that.”

Eddie tugs on his hand, urging his gaze back. Their gaze meets, sad eyes rimmed with red burrowing into his like daggers. "I'm getting worse, Richie. I can barely sit up and it's been twenty minutes since we started this-" he says pulling up on the conjoined hands. "It's not going away. It's getting worse."

"You can't ask this of me."

Eddie laughs, flat and hollow. "How could I not?"

"Coercion still equals-" Richie chokes off the sentence, chest clenching. He takes in a breath to steady himself, fingers pushing up his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "It-it’s not consent. So, no."

"I can't convince you otherwise?" Eddie asks crossing his free arm, eyes testing him, looking for weakness.

Richie straightens, using his extra height to an advantage. "No, you can’t. Duress means there can't be consent."

"Okay..." Eddie says leaning back in his chair. His hand twitches on his arms, gripping his jacket in his fist. And with just one breath, heartbeat, and twitch of a finger the tense stare between them breaks.

Eddie launches himself forward, hands lacing themselves in Richie’s hair, glasses getting skewed as their mouths clash. It's the sweetest thing that has happen in this hellscape, and also the worst. Still, Richie lets the warm press of lips and slide of tongues go on for a breath or two, just so he can file it away before he pulls back. The fingers in his hair tighten but he rolls away, pulling back to look at his friend.

Eddie's eyes are hooded as they glare back, lips parted and wet. Richie's mouth dries at the sight, eyes fixed on Eddie's dilated depths and sweat on his brow. It's so easy to tell himself its lust, not fear. Passion, not desperation. It's so easy to breathe in the familiar scent that makes his chest ache and give into the fantasy.

So Richie gives in.

The first touch he treasures, a slow slide of lips and tongue. Eddie gasps and Richie expects him to pull away, reality to snap back to him like a rubber band, instead hands tighten in his hair and collar. Richie's hands respond in turn, slipping under his best friend’s shirt in hopes of pull more sounds from him.

He pants as Richie runs a hand up his spine, the other gliding over smooth skin to trace a pectoral. His mouth draws away from Eddie's parted lips to his neck, teeth scraping a path to his clavicle. A cry rings high from Eddie as Richie bites and licks along his throat, fingers on his pectoral getting closer and closer to their goal.

"Richie..." Eddie moans, hands falling down to his chests. They clench into his shirt. "Wait, I-”

His stomach rolls at the sound, fingers burning to let go, but he tucks the urge away. Eddie won’t let this go unless he knows what he’s asking for. He has to push him.

His fingers surge forward, finding their goal. He pinches, a gasp falling sharp from Eddie as he wiggles away. Richie brings an arm around to keep him close, mouth swallowing any protest even as a fist lands on his chest.

Just a little more.

Richie plunges his tongue in as Eddie tries to pull away, nipple being abandoned to trap him. One arm keeping his in place as the other trails down, digits dancing along the band of his boxers. Eddie gasps when the first finger slips under, dipping into his underwear as he is walked backwards.

"Richie-" Eddie says as he wrenches free, voice high and choppy and wet like the sea.

Richie finally pulls away then, pushing Eddie onto his childhood bed. Shaking, he takes a couple steps back, not trusting himself to be near his friend right now. Not with this heat low in his gut, his taste on his lips.

_Disgusting, perverted, queer, Trash Mouth Richie._

He squeezes his eyes shut, panting and swallowing past the bile rising in his throat. He can't look at Eddie, can’t stand the fear he will see there.

"Don't make me hurt you." Richie says voice low, eyes burning behind him frames. "I love you. I can't lose you again."

***Eddie’s POV***

_‘I love you. I can't lose you again.’_

Eddie’s heart clenches at those words, body still throbbing from the way Richie devoured him. Legs shaking with- wait... That’s not him.

He looks down, realizing the shaking is coming from the bed. The frame rumbling under him like a love mattress at a seedy motel.

Richie eyes fly open, gaze darting around the room. "You feel that too, right?"

"Yeah." Eddie says, trying for a reassuring smile. "You're a good kisser, Trash Mouth, but you’re not earth-shakingly good."

Richie’s mouth sours, lips parting to retaliate. He doesn't get the chance though before the whole room shakes, rumbling so hard lamps and books are knocked to the ground. Then the room splits in two, opening like doors. Richie doesn’t have time to even scream before he is dropped down into the darkness with Eddie sliding off the bed after him.

The fall is short but fast, a break check with gravity as they land on hard stone. Eddie’s breath is kicked out of him on impact, lungs spasming for air. He pats at his pocket, blindly search for the small plastic canister inside. He draws it out and takes a wheezy breath in, lungs drawing in compressed medicated air.

He takes another, air easing in smoother. After a couple more the ringing finally fades, ears clearing to hear coughs and swears not far away.

"Cock sucking, clown bastard." Richie says with a cough before rolling onto his side.

"You okay?" Eddie croaks, hand resting on his chest as he catches his breath.

Richie gives a strained laugh, face scrunching up. "Never felt better. Just light headed, short on breath and with what I think is a broken rib. It's like I just got a hug from your mom."

"Shut up..." Eddie says, sitting up with a groan as the room tips and turns. He buries his head between his knees and waits for the floor to stop moving.

"I think we are back in the cave." Richie says recovering from the fall first to take in their surroundings.

Eddie raises his head tentatively, looking around at the cavern. It does look like the cave there were in before they all got split up. It’s also not blemish free like the tunnel, instead they are in a dome like room with rough edges and two small circular openings in the rock on opposite sides, just big enough to crawl through.

He lets out a sigh, relief pouring down him. They are out and, despite having the wind knocked out of him, his head doesn’t feel like it’s about to explode. He’s not sure what did it and he doesn’t really care, pointedly ignoring the disappointment wiggling around in his guts. The moment in the room lost.

_At least they both made it._

Richie walks over to the left opening and leans down to look into it. "We should probably start with-"

"Bill!" A voice yells, echo coming out of the tunnel to their right.

"With that one." Eddie says with a chuckle, the laugh turning into a groan as he stands.

"Fine but I'm going first." Richie says using the wall to straighten. "I don't want you fear farting in my face."

Eddie rolls his eyes as he walks over and crawls through the opening, ignoring the protest that trail behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you are so apathetic you can't tell if your writing is melodramatic or if that's just what emotions are like. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh buddy, I'm finally back. New Year, New Me. (HAHA. I love to lie to myself)  
I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and I'm sorry if there are still some mistakes!  
Please feel free to let me know.

***Richie's POV***

“You didn't unlock the top one."

"Yes I did."

Eddie moves, chest brushing Richie’s shoulder as he shifts closer. "No, you unlocked it then turned the key back and locked it again."

Richie shakes his head; because _of course_ Eddie would lecture him on the proper way to unlock a door. He wants to be more annoyed but Eddie is standing a little too close for him to work up any real ire. Not when goose bumps prickle down his spine as Eddie _literally_ breathes down his neck.

An image of Eddie’s lips pressed to his neck flashes before his eyes, mind supplying it easy now that he knows what they feel like. Richie grinds his teeth and shoves the thought away.

"Uh, I think I know how to use a key."

"The fact that we aren't inside would seem to imply that you don't." Eddie shoots back.

_Touché. _Richie rolls his eyes, lips quirking as he tries the doorknob again.

Beverly sighs, pulling her face up just enough from where it’s smashed into Ben's shoulder to glare them. "Will someone please just unlock the door so we can go to bed?"

"Here just-" Eddie takes the key from him and crowds up by the door. He shoves it in the deadbolt, twisting to the left with an audible click.

Eddie flashes him a smug smile before it wavers, finally realizing how close he has Richie pressed to the door. Eddie shuffles away, ducking his head before sliding past. Richie stares after, stomach rolling as his friend disappears up the stairs, in a rush to get away. Away from _him_.

"Well that was weird." Bev says looking between Richie and the now empty staircase, Ben and Bill filing in the door before them.

Richie shrugs and walks in, ignoring Bev’s inquisitive gaze. He is still remembering things from their childhood, somethings coming back slower than others, but Beverly’s ability to see through the other Losers like tissue paper isn’t one of them. Memories of bright blue eyes on him as he teases Eddie, or as they getting into one too many tickling matches rises to the surface much like his shame, warm and hot on his face if he lets himself think about it too long. God, he was so fucking obvious. She probably knew before he did.

The thought turns his stomach, warning signs to 'abort' and 'redirect' ringing like an alarm. Besides, he is really too tired at the moment to have a heart-to-heart. Maybe after food and some sleep without being terrified out of his mind…

Or, you know, never works too.

"Well you know, Lake water isn't really Eddie's idea of a hot spring. Probably just went upstairs to take a shower." Richie says waving a dismissive hand in the direction of the stairs.

"Not him. You."

Richie’s feet freeze at the blunt statement, eyebrows arched high as he looks at Beverly. Is she really trying to have a conversation here and now? Ben and Bill, both walking zombies at this point, finally look between them, catching the thread of the conversation. Bev continues under weighted gaze.

“You've been quiet since we escaped the Nebolt’s. You didn't even make a stupid ‘key-dick’ joke early. It’s weird, for a Trash-Mouth atleast." She explains, lips pulling into a small smile.

Bill catches the line of thought, and its inevitable conclusion, eyes filling with concern as he looks him over. As if Richie is mortally wounded and just forgot to mention it to anyone. "Richie, are you okay?"

Richie runs a hand down his face, a dark laugh falling out. They are concerned about _him_ when he's the one that fucking molested Eddie. It's like a sick fucking joke.

"Tons of shit happened, Bill. I'm pretty sure we all saw some fucked up shit. Physically, I'm fine. Mentally, I'll probably need therapy. But right now, I could use some sleep."

Bill opens his mouth, brows drawn together as he puts on his 'worried face', ready to big brother him to death, when Beverly walks between them.

“We just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Bev says, face brightening as she looks over at Ben and Bill. “And hey, we still have the place for the weekend. How about we all get some rest and meet back here for pizza and drinks later. Let's say eight?"

Ben then starts talking about buying stuff to make cauliflower pizza and the conversation derails from there much to Richie's relief.

They head upstairs, Bill giving a small 'goodnight' and Richie a pointed look that says they aren't done talking before disappearing into his room. Beverly and Ben follow suit, both ducking into her room, but not before Bev shoots Richie a wink leaving him standing agape in the hallway.

He eventually snaps out of it and smiles, rolling his eyes and starts to head to his room. At least those two benefited from this fucked-up nightmare. And thank God his room isn't next to hers. Hopefully Eddie isn't a light sleeper.

His hand is on his door when his gaze is pulled towards the room across the hall. No one told Eddie about drinks later. He should really tell him so he's not left out of the loop. Not to check on him or anything.

Richie's feet are in front of the door with only a couple steps, his hand raised to knock when he hears talking on the other side. He frowns. Who would Eddie be talking to at this hour? He leans in before he can think better of it, ear towards the wood.

"...know it's early. Yeah, I'll make it up to you. Just-" Eddie's voice is muffled through the door, wavering in clarity with his footsteps. "Just send the paperwork. Yes, _that_ paperwork."

Richie's eyebrows rise. Now this sounds interesting. What paperwork is so important it can't wait the weekend?

He shuffles forward, meaning to rest his ear on the door to hear better when his knee meets wood with a bang. He freezes, face inches away from the door and hands pressed to it.

_Maybe Eddie will think it came from another-_

The door is ripped open and Richie catches himself on the door frame to keep from follow it inward. His gaze slides upwards, innocent smile in place.

"Uh... what are you doing?"

Eddie stands in the door way, arms crossed over his chest clad in a gray cotton shirt and flannel pajama pants, hair still wet and cheeks flushed from a shower. He looks warm and comfy, and it's really hard to not remember how he felt pressed against him.

Richie backs up, hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. "Uh, well we are getting drinks later. The Losers are I mean. And I just wanted to let you know we'd meet downstairs at eight."

Eddies eyes narrow. "Sure. That's fine. Or should be.”

"Should be? Got a hot date, Eddie-Spaghetti?” Richie asks with a grin.

Eddie looks away, shoving his cellphone and hands down deep in his pajama pockets. "I might have to leave early. You know, work and all.”

Richie blinks. "It's the weekend."

"Some people work weekends." Eddie says with a frown.

Richie bites his lip, mind racing. If Eddie leaves now he won't be able to fix things between them. But more than that, he'll lose his best friend again. And this time he'll remember it. He has to do something to keep Eddie here. Make a joke, guilt trip, _beg_. Something.

"Your job isn’t that important." Richie blurts out, mouth snapping shut as he cringes. Definitely not the best thing he could have said, he might as well have brought up his wife…

Heat flashes in Eddie’s eyes, hands bracing on the door and the frame. Richie’s stomach rolls even as he admires the way Eddie’s arms flex, tensing as if about to slam the door in his face.

Eddie lips purse, eyes dulling as he says "we can't all be famous and important, Trash Mouth", before shutting the door in his face.

The hallways echoes with the clicking of the door, snapping Richie out of his half horrified, half turned-on state. Eventually he turns tail and drags himself to his room, shutting him and his idiocrasy inside.

Stupid. So fucking stupid. Why is it that every time a moment calls for even a small amount of tact his brain immediately flies out the fucking window?

Richie physically as well as mentally berated himself until he falls into unconsciousness, because a body can only be so stressed for so long before passing out. When he wakes the situation still looks like a cluster-fuck but at least he isn't falling over exhausted.

Having his brain not fried from sleep deprivation, Richie actually feels optimistic about today. All he needs to do is find Eddie and talk to him again. Make some jokes, pick up his medications from the pharmacy, and if that doesn’t work just annoy him so much that he gives up on caring about anything. So with his knew outlook, he runs through his shower, blindly pulling clothes from his suit case and is out of his room in five minutes.

He locks his door and turns, eyes immediately falling on Eddie's. Richie takes a deep breath, shoves the key in his pocket and steps up to it. He just has to keep the bar low, text friends is better than nothing.

But his knocks go unanswered and no amount of banging gets a response, ice filling his veins and collecting heavy in his chest. Did he do this? Did he piss Eddie off so much that he would leave without saying anything to him? After everything they have been through?

_Don’t you mean; after everything you’ve put him through? After everything you’ve done to him? _

Richie dashes down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time. He turns the corner, heading for the front desk when he collides with something and bounces back into the wall.

"Ow." A voice says making Richie look up.

Beverly stands leaning against a small hallway table, rubbing her hip. "Jeez, where's the fire, Richie?"

Richie’s head falls heavy on the wall behind him. "Shit. I'm sorry, Bev. I just, well I need to talk to reception. I think Eddie is gone."

"Gone like, left already gone?" Bev says, eyebrows pulling together. She crosses her arms and sucks her lip between her teeth, doubt filling her eyes. "Eddie wouldn't check out without saying anything, would he?"

"I mean... No?" Richie winces. "But I might have said something to him last night..."

Beverly looks him over, most likely taking in his haphazard clothing and wet hair, and seems to fit the pieces together. He expects a reprimand, scolding words asking what bullshit fell out of his mouth and ruined everything. Instead, Beverly walks over and grabs his arm.

"Well, let's go snoop then." She says with a smile, eyes glinting.

It's like a jolt, the snap of a puzzle piece he forgot falling into place. The realization that Bev was always like this. Always seeing the light, the good in people that is calling out past their mistakes. The good intentions hidden behind sharp words and cold shoulders. She did this when they were kids, seeing the root of all their fights and guiding them towards resolution. As much as Bill may be the leader, she was their glue. How could he have forgotten?

They make it to the front desk, reception being just a simple writing table with a monitor since it's really just a house renovated to be a hotel/BnB. The chair, however, is empty of any receptionist; much like all the other days he walked by it. He only saw someone once and it was at check in. He's about to ask what they should do when Beverly round the desk and plops down in the chair.

He glances around, eyebrows raised. "uh, what are you doing?"

Bev doesn't look up, just bends over and starts to riffle through the drawers, pushing pens and paper clips out of the way. "Looking for the password to login."

Richie’s eyebrows rise. "Uh, what?"

"Well it's not like the movies, we aren't going to be able to guess the password without locking the computer." She tugs on a handle, pulling out a small filing drawer. "Ah! Here it is."

Beverly pulls out a green folder, tab labeled ‘passwords’. Clearly this place isn't Fort Knox.

"That doesn't seem really secure."

Bev laughs. "Doubt they care. Its only logins to the computer, schedule, software, emails… Not anything important." She lays the folder open on the desk and starts to drag her finger down the page, searching before she stops. "Got it!"

In the next minute she is in the computer and pulling up the logs for the rooms. Best not to leave his phone anywhere near her. She is clearly a hacker in the making.

"So it doesn't say that room 205 has checked out." Bev says narrowing her eyes at the screen. "Are you sure, Eddie wasn't in his room?"

"Not unless he can sleep through a full minute of someone banging and screeching at his door."

"You guys looking for Eddie?"

Richie turns to see Ben walking out of the kitchen, water bottle in hand and dress in basketball shorts with a t-shirt that sticks to his chest from sweat. Who would have thought nerdy, chubby Benjamin would turn into an Adonis. Adulthood clearly hit him in the face with the ‘Looks’ stick pretty hard. And yet somehow Richie was only interested in a five-nine hypochondriac. Clearly he has a type.

"So, how the shoot for Icy-Hot go? Get any free samples?' Richie says leaning over the desk with a grin.

Bev slaps his chest, not even taking his eyes off Ben. Richie just rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, Richie needs to talk to him and he wasn't in his room or around the house." Bev says answering Ben question. "We thought maybe he left already."

"And Bev, the little hacker," Richie says ruffling her hair, despite her gasp and swatting hands "broke into the computer to look it up."

She breaks away, flipping her hair out of her face to glare up at him. "It's not really that big of a deal."

"Don't sell yourself short, my little criminal." Richie says with a wink.

"Well I'm not surprised." Ben says taking a drink of water. "I saw him earlier before I went on my run. He said something about going to the drug store."

Richie sighs, weight easing off his chest warring with wanting to smack his forehead for being so stupid. "Yeah, sounds like Eddie. Can't find him, check the nearest pharmacy."

"Guess I'll have to find a better hiding place."

Richie's eyes widen. On second thought, he should definitely smack himself in the face.

"Eddie!" Richie says, turning with a big smile. "Just the man I wanted to talk to. Care if we just-"

Richie grabs Eddie’s arm and drags him past Ben into the kitchen. He let's go as soon as they are alone, ignoring the confused expression on Eddie's face as he leans over the island counter and puts his head in his hands. First he assaults Eddie, then insults his job and then him. At least he can’t make it worse.

He raises his head and takes a shaky breath. "So, want something to drink. Orange juice? Water? Coffee? I could go for some coffee myself. Why don't you take a load off. I'll-"

"Okay stop." Eddie says, setting his bag on the counter and running a hand down his face. "Apology accepted to whatever you were going to say. Can we go now?"

Richie freezes. "What?"

"You always ramble and do this weird, ‘waiter’ routine when you feel guilty and want to apologize. Remember that one time you got Bev her lunch for a week when you accidentally spit gum in her hair and she had go cut it short again?" Eddie ask, lips quirking into a smile.

Richie’s face heats up as the memory washes up like a seashell on the beach. He sputters in response. Has he always been that obvious?

Eddie walks up and grabs his shoulders. He smells warm and musky, dark blue eyes searching his. Richie swears his heart doesn't skip a beat. "You are forgiven."

Richie huffs and pulls away. "That's not how this works."

"Richie you don't have to say anything." Eddie says with a sigh. "I have paperwork I need to get from the fax and-"

"I assaulted you." Richie says, voice low and sharp. A quiet settles over him, a silent heat burning him from the inside. Despite the look of horror in Eddie's eyes he doesn't stop, can't. Like giving air to a fire, he opened his mouth and the words lick their way up his throat, burning him.

"I assaulted you and took advantage and scared you when we already were scared and being terrorized by a fucking clown. I don't get forgiveness just like that."

He clenches his fists and looks away. He wants to tear at something, rip it open with his teeth. Leave it raw and bleeding like him.

Instead, he smiles.

"So I'm going to make it up to you." He claps his hands together and goes to coffee maker. "Now how do you take your coffee?”

Richie looks at the machine and sighs, hands shaking as he pulls the basket open. He turns to grab a filter when Eddie appears beside him, leaning against the counter with a filter in hand.

Eddie's eyes are dark as he looks at him, searching him as if looking for a sign. He steps towards him, mouth in a determined line. It makes Richie sweat, heart swooping as his brain tugs at him, telling him he has seen this look before.

The nagging in his head doesn't have time to take hold as Eddie steps into his personal space. His eyes dipping to Richie's lips the only warning before he is crowded back against the counter.

A gasp wrings itself from Richie's chest, hands grabbing at Eddie's arms, enjoying the toned muscles there even as he wars with himself on whether to push him away or pull him closer. It's a moment of hesitation that allows Eddie to delve in deeper, tongue dancing past his lip. He moans as teeth scrape over it next, the sound pulled from his chest, warmth arching down to his pelvis. His legs weaken as he gives into the sensation.

Richie leans into the kiss and starts to return it when Eddie pulls away leaving him dazed. He smiles. "There. Now we are even."

It takes Richie a moment for the words to sink in and, like a dagger, it sinks deep. Chest raw and bleeding out on the kitchen floor.

Eddie thinks this makes them even? That his little kiss makes up for what Richie did to him? Or is this just his way of teasing the fag?

Richie pushes him away in a haze, shoving Eddie back into the kitchen island where he catches himself before he can fall. He doesn't look at Eddie as he storms out, ignoring even the small 'good morning' from Bill as he stumbles half asleep into the kitchen.

He passes the stairs, immediately dismissing his room, Eddie would look there first if he wants to find him. Instead he heads for the library near the front door.

In the small library he paces. It's what he does when he thinks, and on the occasions he works on his own jokes. And he does sometimes, despite what Eddie likes to think.

Uhg, Eddie... Stupid, reckless Eddie. Fucking idiot that throws a fence pike like a javelin at a thirty foot clown spider to save him. Saved his smart mouth and then acts as though they are even close to even. After everything Richie did to him.

Richie tugs a hand through his hair, hands itching. Itching to slap Eddie, hug him... Or maybe just go upstairs and masturbate.

He wrinkles his nose and pushes the thought out of his mind. He can't sexualize Eddie like that, not after-

_‘Not after having the real thing, right? Not after taking it for yourself? Tasting Eddie-Bear and tainting him.’_ The voice taunts him from inside his head, low and whimsical and way too much like a certain clown.

Richie shivers, shoulders pulling up to his ears as he looks around the room. It may be his imagination but it's still too freaky and too soon. Yeah. He's definitely going to need therapy.

He jumps, a whirling sound making him turn. His spine smooths out at the sight of the printer, paper being spit out of the top into a neat pile. Richie frowns and takes a step closer.

Eddie was having something faxed over wasn't he?

Richie reaches the printer just as the machine quiets. He picks up the stack of papers, still warm, and turns them over.

The top page is a cover sent from a 'Mr. Anthony Turner' asking Eddie to sign and send back ASAP. He turns to the next page, eyes skimming the first page of the actual document, stomach dropping with each passing second.

***Eddie's POV***

Eddie's eyes follow Richie out the room, center of his being leaving with him. It leaves him hollow, shaking with the whip lash of the whole exchange.

Richie seemed better today. Less like he was about to spin apart into a tornado of fragments and more like his normal ADHD self. When he walked in to Richie actively searching for him he thought they would be able to have a less emotionally charged discussion. Boy was he wrong…

He knows the situation with IT took a toll on Richie. He had to expose himself and come to terms with his sexuality all with in a half an hour _during_ a life and death situation. Richie was pressured by Pennywise and, Eddie hates to admit it, himself as well.

He can't find it in himself to apologize though. He hates that he made Richie feel like he violated him. But the other part of him knows he wouldn't change his decisions even if he could.

The whole fiasco in the cave gave Eddie clarity. Long buried feelings and memories connecting with others in a very obvious conclusion. God, college makes so much more sense now…

"Uh... What was that?" Bill says still looking between Eddie and the doorway Richie disappeared through.

Eddie winces, face heating at where his pervy mind had just went to. "Nothing. Just... Nothing."

Because at this point wasn't it nothing? Richie had Eddie in his arms, lips pressed against his with neither of them in mortal peril and he just… runs away. Richie might have had a crush on him at one point, but did Eddie really expect it to last ten years and a spout of amnesia just because it did for him?

Richie said he loves him but that can be a lot of things. Didn't the Greeks have like seven words for it after all?

Bill yawns. "Yeah, not buying it. But more importantly, are you going to be doing something with that?"

Eddie looks down, coffee filter smashed in his grip and the half started pot in front of him. "Oh, yeah. Sure."

He didn't actually want coffee but it seemed like the best way to distract Bill and keep his hands busy. It's not like he has a good excuse, and Bill is good at seeing through his bullshit.

Eddie’s palms sweat as he snaps the coffee filter into place and starts the machine. He stares at it as it hums into life, wondering if he can slide out of the room without having this conversation. Make an excuse to leave and avoid it all.

Eddie chances a look back at Bill, head cradled in his arms as he leans over the table, by all accounts dead to the world. He backs up, glancing at the empty door way. He turns towards it, poised to duck out when Beverly walks through with Ben close behind.

"Hey, where'd Richie go?" She asks looking between him and Bill, who stares blearily back.

"Ask Eddie."

Eddie scowls and changes direction for the cabinet and grabs a mug. He can tell they are all look at him expectantly, but he can't find the words to explain anything that has happen in the past forty-eight hours. With Richie coming out to him, kissing him, freaking out, apologizing, and then just when Eddie thinks they are one the same page and kisses him back, Richie rejects him. Eddie can't quite find the words with wounds so fresh for them both.

Eddie pours a cup of coffee and slides it over to Bill. He catches Bev's eye as he looks up, her gaze evaluating, as if she piecing something together. She returns his gaze and smiles.

"Bill, Ben? Why don't you guys go get some drinks for tonight?" Beverly says, walking over to Eddie. "Me and Eddie are going to pick up ice and snacks. Mike will be over around eight with the pizza."

Eddie blinks as Beverly links an arm in his, looking between her and where they are connected.

Bill scoffs, and lifts his mug. "But I just got my coffee."

Bev turns and grabs at something from the cabinet behind them before tossing it to Bill. He catches it and reveals it to be a red travel mug.

"Chop, chop boys." Beverly says pulling Eddie out of the room. He snatches his bag off the counter as they head out the door. She shepherds him to her car, clicking the remote before sliding in.

Eddie doesn't say anything until they are pulling out of the driveway.

"Uh, what just happened?"

"I kidnapped you for yours and Richie's sake." Beverly says switching on her blinker at the stop sign to turn towards town.

Eddie flushes and looks away. "I- it's not anything I can talk about." He glances sideways, chewing on his lip. But on the other hand he could maybe get an opinion on the situation. Vaguely at least. "I can probably tell you in really broad terms at least."

She smiles. "I'm all ears."

He sighs, sliding down a little in his seat. "So me and Richie may have been put in a... Well, an awkward situation in the cave with Pennywise. Richie was affected by it more and when he tried to talk about it I tired make it easier for him but ended up making it worse." Eddie thumps his head against the window hard, teeth clattering shut at the force. "I don't know what to do."

Bev hums and turns into the parking lot of the super market and slips into a spot. She puts the car in park and turns to him, lips purses and eyes considering.

"You don't have to confirm anything, but I am going to guess it's a homosexual situation that came up in the cave, since Richie is gay and hasn't come out yet."

Eddie's jaw hangs open. "How did- uhm, uh what would you do in that kind of situation. And say, you kissed Richie to make him feel better about it.'

Beverly winces. "So, you pity kissed him?"

"What? That's not- I didn't pity kiss him! He was just so awkward about the whole thing and trying to apologize and it's always awkward to watch Richie do that servant routine."

Bev chuckles. "I don't know. I didn't mind it after the whole gum incident."

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Of course you didn't. Anyways, I just want to skip the whole apology thing so I just... Kissed him and told him we're even..." Bev raises her eyebrows, as his face shifts in to an expression of horror. "Omg... I made him think I was doing it out of pity!"

"Yeah... You forgot to tell him you like him, idiot. On top of that, you are still married. Don’t you think that might leave a guy kind of confused?”

"I'm, uh, actually filling for a divorce. I'm having my attorney fax them over so I can sign them this weekend." He rubs the back of his neck, eyes following a couple walking through the parking lot. "I kind of didn't want to keep up the charade once I remembered everything."

"What did you remember?"

Eddie looks back at Bev, blue eyes open and kind. He takes a settling breath. "You know how we forgot all about Derry and each other when we left? Well, I forgot Richie but didn't. If you catch my drift."

She squints, head tilting to the side. "Maybe..."

He sighs. "Think college and guys with messy curly hair and glasses."

"Wow." She says with a laugh. "That's actually... Wow."

His head falls into his hands. "Uhhhh, its creepy isn't it?"

"No, no!" Beverly grabs his hand and tugs it away from his face. "Really it's not. It's actually kind of cute."

Eddie face is heated, eyes dancing around the car, looking anywhere but at Bev. "Let's just get snacks."

He gets out of the car and they head inside. They move through the store like nothing, no difference in conversation or behavior a gift Bev seems to have, allowing the earlier conversation to be left in the car.

It’s only at check out when the question on the tip of his tongue falls out.

"What would you do? In my situation, how would you fix it?" Eddie says, handing Beverly the tub of salsa.

She smiles, eyes bright as she takes the item from him. "It's easy really. When the time comes, just tell the truth."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love you all and thank you so much for reading.  
Kudos and comments appreciated.
> 
> XOXO


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is dedicated to all the beautiful people who have left comments and kudos on this work. Thank you so much. You guys are all angels.

***Richie's POV***

Richie stares for what feels like ten minutes at the divorce petition, slow creeping horror settling in his stomach like stones. The papers fluttering down onto the maroon carpet like confetti finally snap him out of his downward spiral.

Haphazardly, he grabs them, not even caring if they are in order and slaps the on the printer. He turns for the door, mind reeling when a thought knocks on his skull from the recedes of his mind, hand freezing on the handle.

With a turn and a couple quick steps he is back at the door, opening it with his nails biting into the crisp white paper in his hands.

Richie is in a daze as he flees what feels like the scene of a crime. Which, he guess it kind of is since he did just steal documents that aren’t his. He doesn’t even have a destination in mind, just _away, away, away. _His head is such a jumbled mess that he almost walks right into the foyer where Bev and Eddie entering from the kitchen.

He ducks behind the corner, documents clutched tight to his chest. He’s not sure if Bev or Eddie saw him, breath stopping in his chest as he waits. Mildly, he wonders if he should shove the papers down his pants just in case.

But the front door opens and closes a moment later and Richie lets himself slump against the wall. Peaking around the corner, he waits a breath to see if Ben and Bill will come meandering out as well.

They don't and with the coast clear, he darts for the stairs, taking them two at a time as quietly as he can. His room a welcoming sight when he finally shuts the door behind him. Sanctuary in the form of a cage.

And Richie paces.

Usually, when he is anxious he talks. Bullshits. Heckles. Is his usual, annoying 'TrashMouth-self’. It makes him a great comedian really.

And when Richie is freaking out, he paces.

Because not only does he have sexually assaulting his friend on his conscious but now he has officially ruined a marriage. No that he has ever believed in the sanctity of marriage himself but it still is the shittest thing he's done. And he's threw up on a woman at her Bachelorette party.

If he is sure of one thing though it’s that he needs to talk to Eddie, like _now_. Actually he needed to talk to him half an hour ago when they were in the kitchen but Eddie kind of stomped all over that. But this time he won’t let any pity kisses or waved away apologies stop him.

Richie looks down at the papers in his hand, bile rising in his throat. It’s like a sick offering. He still remembers the Chinese restaurant and finding out Eddie is married. His words, drifting back to him…

_‘What to like a woman?’_

They had all laughed and Eddie replied ‘fuck you’ and it had all seemed so natural. But Richie had only been half kidding. Because Eddie never dated in high school, the other Losers had assumed it was because of his overbearing mom or that girls were just not interested, but Richie remembers the warmth in his chest when Eddie had told him he turned down Samantha Collins. Remembers after that how he had asked if he wanted to hang out that weekend. How they spent that night getting food at the _only_ good restaurant in Derry before going to the arcade. Remembers the soft voice whispering in his ear.

_Date… This is a date._

It had freaked him out so much that come Monday when Tara Mathis had asked him out to the Spring Fling he had said yes and proceeded to ask her out for good measure.

Later, when he the Losers all ‘hemmed and hawed’ about not having dates to the dance and Richie had smugly told him about Tara. They all didn’t believe him at first, just ragged on him until he dared them to go ask her themselves. That shut them up before they all started congratulated him as if he had been the one brave enough to ask her. (He might not have mentioned who asked who.) It felt good in the moment, like something he was supposed to do, but when he looked over at Eddie, eyes dark and flat, he wondered why the hell he did it.

To say him and Tara didn’t last a month would be an understatement. It barely lasted to the dance and she ended up ditching him half way through to dance with someone else. When he sat next to Eddie and watched the other couples all slow dance, his friend politely didn’t mention it. But then again, Eddie always had way more tact than him.

So finding out Eddie is married to a woman was surprising to Richie and no small part of him, despite how terrified he was about having to face that fucking clown again, had hoped they could pick up where they left off. He wasn’t confused anymore about his sexual preference, not that he didn’t keep them under lock and key still, but with Eddie he thought…

However, Eddie being married shut that down real quick. To a woman, doubly so. But now, he is trying to get divorced and he did kiss him… Maybe-

With a growl, Richie throws the papers on the small desk in the corner and flops down on his bed. The smell of lavender fabric softener soothing some of the knots forming in his chest.

Pennywise is like the fucked up gift that just keeps on giving.

Richie obsesses over the documents on his desk for the better part of the day. Waring with himself on whether he should just put the documents back and pretend he never saw them or confront Eddie about them. Half a mind to make Eddie talk to him if he wants them back.

He groans. What is he? Twelve? And it’s not like his lawyer can’t just send him another copy. But Richie just can’t in good conscious let Eddie do this if it’s out of guilt or confusion. He might be a shitty friend but he can do at least that. No matter how awkward it’s going to be.

The front door downstairs creeks open. Richie’s head pops up off the mattress and looks over at the clock. It’s a quarter till eight, when everyone is supposed to meet back.

He doesn't think about it. Mind too stuck on the one and only option he really has, not thinking about much else other than ‘Eddie’ and ‘fix’. So when he gets to the landing of the stairs and sees Mike he stops short, despite the obvious struggle he is having with how high the pizza boxes are stacked in his arms, so much so that Richie can’t see most of Mike’s face.

"Hey, man. Uh, a little help please?" He asks shuffling around to shut the door with his foot.

Richie jumps into action.

"Oh, uh, sorry.” Richie says snapping back to himself and letting the disappointment slide off his shoulder. He descents the last couple steps and grabs a few boxes off the top and leads Mike into the kitchen where they set the boxes on the counter.

"Where's everyone else?" Mike asks looking around. “You seemed like you were expecting someone.”

Richie’s cheeks heat. Is he that transparent?

"Oh, uh no one really." He says looking away and grabbing his phone from his pocket. "Bev left with Eddie, I actually thought you were them. But I don't know where Ben and Bill are. I don’t have a message or anything from them. Maybe-"

"Richie!"

The door slams shut, followed by another shout of his name from Beverly. Mike and Richie smile and head out of the kitchen.

"Richie. Come down and- oh, hey." Beverly says as she turns from where she is yelling up the stairs to them. "Perfect timing, Mike. I'll help you unpack the food. Richie, go help Eddie with the groceries."

The pointed look she gives him has his stomach swoops, blue eyes soft. It stirs something in Richie, a tug that he pushes away. Eddie is who he wants to talk to anyways.

"Aye, aye captain. Cheerio and all that." Richie says saluting and making a break for the door.

He breeze past a chuckling Mike but Bev only gives him a small smile, eyes clouded with something, sympathy and concern a blue cocktail in her eyes that leaves his mouth bitter. He looks away, stomach churning as the tugging gets more insistent.

Richie knows it's his imagination; he's gone years without the Losers finding out. His 'coming-out' party had a guest of one after all. Unless...

But no, Eddie wouldn't tell Bev, right? On the other hand he does want to get a divorce and Bev is definitely divorcing her shit-head of a husband. Maybe he needed someone to confine in?

Richie shuts the front door behind him and runs a hand through his hair, taking a steadying breath.

It’s okay then. Bev wouldn't tell anyone else probably... Except Ben. But Ben is a cool guy. Kept his crush on Bev a secret for like twenty-seven years after all. Three people isn't bad, right?

His hand in his hair tightens.

But Ben’s crush on Bev wasn’t really a secret was it? God, Ben is so fucking obvious and a shit liar. Probably can’t even lie on a medical questionnaire. Bet he answers the drugs and alcohol questions _honestly_. Richie shakes his head. Once a big, soft marshmallow, always a big, soft marshmallow.

Richie’s stomach curdles as if he swallowed something rotten. He gives up the meditative breathing and leans forward against the column of the front porch; forehead pressed hard against the painted wood as he tries to think through the inevitable catastrophe headed his way.

His career is going to go through so much shit once he is out. God, his manager is going to be pissed. But worst of all is he doesn't know _when _it'll happen. Because at some point it going to slip and get out. It's not that he doesn’t trust the Losers but it just takes one slip up. One moment of a loose tongue or someone over hearing a conversation and then he'll wake up and see his face in the tabloids.

He could come out on his own, but… Hell, it took threat of ‘death by clown’ to get him to confess to Eddie. The thought of coming out to the public and his fans makes him feel like his tongue is trying to crawl down his throat. No, that will definitely not happen.

"Uh... Richie? Are you okay?"

He turns his head, peering around the column to see Eddie standing on the cobble stone path to the house, his arms loaded with brown paper bag and brows pulled together.

Right. Talk to Eddie first, _then_ he can freak out.

"Heeyy." He says voice breathy as he turns to lean his side on the porch. Maybe he can play it as a quiet, meditative moment instead of a paranoid twitchy one. Not that he's ever done yoga or anything that could even be considered 'new agey', so he's doubtful he pulls it off.

Eddie pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, a sure sign he is worried. Yep, definitely didn't pull it off. Also very, very distracting. Does he know how much that makes him want to sink his teeth into it as well? Probably not because if he did he wouldn't be doing it.

"What's wrong?" Eddie asks, taking the steps up the porch.

Richie opens his mouth, ready to confront the matter. Ask straight up why Eddie is getting a divorce and if it's his fault. Fix things if he can.

"Nothing." Richie says smiling and putting a heavy arm around the other’s shoulders, weighting down his already full arms, the annoyed twitch in Eddie’s mouth soothing in its normalcy.

Because why doing something when you can put it off he thinks, even as he mentally slaps himself.

"Bev just told me to come help with the groceries.” Richie says. “How shit much did you guys buy?”

Eddie glares, shifting out from under his arm and moves towards the house. "Just shut up, help, and open the door for me."

"Sir, yes, sir." Richie says with a chuckle, opening the door with a flourish and a bow. Eddie rolls his eyes and walks past.

He turns, about to shut the door and do as he was told when Eddie says his name, stopping him. When he looks back Eddie is frowning, eyes downcast at his loaded arms.

"You know you're a shitty liar, right?"

Richie's stomach clenches, mouth drying. "I don't-"

"Stop. Just stop." He says cutting him off. Eddie looks at him, eyes bright with pain. "Just... You can talk to me. We haven't been through all that shit for you to shut me out. Just- _talk to me_."

Richie’s mouth pops open but Eddie doesn’t wait for an answer, just turns away and heads into the house leaving Richie staring after. He runs a hand through his face and sighs before closing the door and heading to Bev's car. He can at least be useful even if he is shit at confrontations.

He definitely didn't fool Eddie though. All he did was waste more time. Because when it comes down too it he's just a coward, too caught up in a facade to be real with the people who care about him.

Why do they even like him?

***Eddie’s POV***

"Hey, Eddie. Need another beer?" Mike asks standing up from where all the Losers are sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor of the living room, scattered around empty pizza boxes and beer cans. There’s a dining they could all have sat at but, as Bev had put it, this room is more ‘homey’. It’s _also_ where the wet bar is.

"Uh, sure." He says with a smile, face already warm from the laughing and alcohol. The room glows with the light hearted atmosphere of relief and unity. Or maybe he's just drunk.

"Grab me one too, Mike!" Richie calls as Mike walks into the kitchen, half lying over the coffee table and taking up the little remaining space not covered by drinks. Richie turns his head and smiles up at him, glasses skewed on his face from where they are pressed into the table. Childlike and annoying…

Eddie glances away, stomach fluttering. Nope, definitely not cute.

Or at least Eddie tells himself that. His eyes keep darting back to Richie as the group listens to a story Bill is telling. He's not sure what's going on with Richie but he has a feeling it has something to do with him.

He won't be alone in a room with him, leaving every time it just them. As if Richie's afraid of being alone with him. He would be worried Richie is pissed at him if he hadn't planted himself right next to him for dinner.

Or if Eddie didn't keep catching him staring at him.

Beverly claps her hands together to get everyone's attention and startles Eddie from his thoughts.

"Okay, now that we've ate it's time for a drinking game!" She says with a giddy smile.

Richie perks up at that, beaming. "Oooo, I like the way you think!"

Eddie groans. "Oh God, please says it's not beer pong. I don't have the coordination for that anymore. I gave it up in college when I got my diploma."

"Eds, I'll be damned. You can play beer pong?" Richie says leaning in to pinch his cheeks.

Eddie smacks his hand away. "Could. I'm not twenty anymore. And you're not twelve."

Richie grins, waggling his eyebrows at the group. "We could always play strip poker."

A round of exasperated 'no's' and chuckles chorus back.

"We could always play 'Fuck the Dealer'. I think I saw a pack of cards in a drawer in the kitchen." Mike says as he walks back into the room, handing Eddie and Richie each a beer.

"Or we could play 'Truth or Shot'" Beverly says. She gives a sly smile and takes a sip of her old fashion. The glint in her eye telling him she is up to something.

It of course takes barely any convincing on Bev's part to talk them into it. Ben would agree to almost any idea she has and Richie positively pounces on it and tries to talk Bev into making it 'Truth, Dare, or Shot'. But Bill quickly nips that idea, something Eddie can't help but agree with. They are all a little too old to get arrested for streaking or t-peeing a house.

When it’s clear the room is being won over to the idea Eddie starts to object himself but a pointed look from her has him snapping his mouth shut. Yeah, she is definitely up to something.

Bill and Mike fold easily after Bev promises there won’t be any body shots or other shenanigans. So once they all have grabbed drink refills, a bottle of tequila, and a shot glass, they crowded back around the coffee table.

"So who goes first?" Bill asks sipping an old fashion Bev made for him before grimacing. Eddie doesn't know how he's drinking it. He saw her make it and she definitely tripled the bourbon but nothing else.

"Well our lovely Bev led us all down this rabbit hole, so how about you do the honors?" Richie says batting his eyes behind his glasses at her. Bev laughs and returns the overt goo-goo eyes.

A nerve pricks at Eddie's temple. "Could you go a day without flirting with every one?"

Eddie’s jaw clicks together fast, mouth drying despite the drink in his hand. Oh God, is he really pissed that Richie is giving Bev attention? That's wrong on so many levels. Not only is Bev very interested in Ben and vice versa but Richie kind of made it very clear he's gay.

_But what about all those women he slept with in high school?_’ a tiny voice in his head whispers back. And he can’t completely ignore its point. Richie could swings both ways.

_And be very much not interested in a short, risk analyst with hypochondria._

Richie for his part doesn’t seem to notice the jealous snap. "I can't keep all this love inside, Eddie Spaghetti." Richie says swinging an arm around him.

Eddie ducks under it, thankful that his face is already flushed from the alcohol. He ignores Bev’s knowing look. "Let's just play the damn game."

Bev herds the metaphorical 'cats' that are the Losers through the first round of the game. She goes over the rules, all pretty obvious by the title, and the room dissolves into madness from there.

Ten rounds into the game, the room is a warm bubble and Eddie can't stop laughing.

Mike doubles over, arms clutching his stomach. "Wait, you did what!?"

"It was my first real date," Ben says hiding his face behind his beer, "and I was nervous."

"So you get obscenely drunk and throw up on her?" Richie laughing between choked gasps of his beer. Eddie smacks his back none too gently to help clear his esophagus, flashing a grin at the glare he gets in return.

"And a model no less." Bill chimes in with a chuckle and fake wince. "Ouch."

"Okay guys, don't mortify the man." Beverly says cheeks twitching, as if she hadn't just been rolling on the floor laughing moments ago. "Okay, Ben. It’s your turn then."

"Uhm, okay. Then, Bev, do-"

"Do you looouuuurve me!?" Richie says leaning over the coffee table, mouth pinched into a hideous kissing face. Eddie feels as if he's being transported back to high school again.

He smacks Richie upside the head.

"What?" Richie says with a dopey grin. "I'm just saying what everyone is thinking. I'm surprised we've seen them at all this weekend."

Ben’s face turns beet read at that, eyes widening. Bev just scoffs scoffs, cheeks marginally pinker but at least the smile isn’t forced. "Hey Rich, your Trash Mouth is showing."

Richie holds his arms out wide. "I have reached my final form! And _you_ still need to answer the question."

No one points out that that wasn’t Ben’s question but Richie’s, not even Ben. Instead, a glint flashed in Bev’s eye as she leans forward, elbows solid on the table. She smiles.

"Fine. I do. I love Ben."

If possible Ben becomes even redder at the admittance, eyes dancing around the group. If he thinks him and Bev were being sly about their new relationship he is very wrong. None of the Losers blink at the confession, Mike and Bill even looks happy while Richie looks a mix between put-out and deep in thought.

Bev sets her glass heavy on the table, breaking the tense air. "So, my turn." she says, eyes looking around the group to select a new victim.

Eddie is sure it's a show, that she very much already knows who she is going to choose. That she is going to choose a very loud, annoying person as punishment. So when her eyes freeze on him he almost chokes on the drink he is taking.

"Eddie, did you ever experiment in college? Sexually, of course, not with narcotics." Bev asks hands folded in front of her, as if she’s a doctor asking a clinical question and didn’t just punch him in the solar plex.

"Uh..."

It's not eloquent, but Eddie really can't think of a better response to that question at the moment. Especially not with all of them staring at him. Richie's eyes alone seeming to be trying to dig the answer from his skull.

And that’s kind of the kick in the ass he needs. For Richie this is just as big of a moment as it is for him. To know how the Losers will react to finding out one of their own is gay. And the answer is so damn obvious when he thinks of it like that.

These are his childhood friends. The ones who have stood by him in the worst of times; stood by him when he faced off against his mother, bullying, and, yes, a _Killer Klown from Outer Space._ It’s so fucking obvious that he can tell these people anything, he doesn’t know how he ever thought different. And all he has to do is show Richie how true it is.

Eddie takes a deep breath and a very much needed drink of his beer before looking up at his friends. His eyes resting on Richie for a little bit longer before address Beverly.

"Uhh, yeah I did actually. A lot." He says cheeks heating, heart pounding in his ears. "I'm Bi, actually."

He keeps his head up, refusing to duck away, looking at Richie out of the corner of his eye. Eddie fights a smile as the dumb-founded look he finds there. Guess Richie thought he was his first gay kiss.

Bev is the first one to break the silence, smile huge and bright. "I knew you were. It's pretty obvious really."

Bill jolts, face shocked as he looks at Beverly. "How did you know and I didn't?"

"Because I'm the smartest." She says with a casual shrug of her shoulder, taking a sip of her drink.

"You are so full of it!" Mike says with a chuckle. “You _so_ did not know.”

The conversation devolves from there, popcorn being thrown with insults but no one really bats an eye. Despite his resolve, a knot loosens in Eddie's chest.

He didn't think the Losers would care but then again, expecting bullying and rejection is a reaction that is kind of hard to kill. Eddie had plenty of that in school from Henry and his crew, maybe more than the others being the smallest and all. (_Still the smallest,_ he reminds him.) But the result is worth it, the room feels warmer, cozier and it isn't the alcohol. It's the chains on his chest that have disappeared, allowing him to breath. He wishes he could do the same for Richie.

Speaking of, he is the only one acting different. It's as if he's pulled away, going inside his head at the confession. Eddie tries to not draw attention to it and to deflect any comment or question that Richie takes too long to answer or misses completely until he finally pulls himself together.

The party starts to wind down after that, starting with Bev dragging Ben up the steps (who would have known the big guy is a light weight) followed close by Bill.

Mike passes out of the couch, which Eddie would hate for him to fall asleep on. It's old and lumpy. And it's not like there aren't extra beds. So him and Richie spend ten long minutes of dragging Mike up the stairs, half of it spent laughing and falling over themselves.

"Man, he is heavier that he looks." Richie says, grabbing his shoulder and rotating it.

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to hold him while you fumbled with your keys." Eddie says, collapsed on Richie’s bed next to a passed out Mike.

"You’re lucky I didn’t- fuck!"

"What?" Eddie asks, eyebrows pulling together as he drags himself into a sitting position. He can't remember the last time he stayed up to three in the morning, he's not in his twenties anymore after all and he can definitely feel it in his bone and eyelids.

Richie smacks his forehead with is palm. "We put him in _your_ room. My room is the one with the two fulls."

Eddie shrugs. "Potato, poh-tato. Who cares who sleeps in whose bed?" He giggles. "Who... _Hoo-hoo_."

Richie laughs, almost falling on the bed with the force of it. "God you are drunk."

"So are you, Richie." He says standing, patting him on the shoulder though his misses the first time. "And your drunk-ass just got a new roommate."

Richie’s smile recedes, warmth traveling from his mouth to his eyes, heating them. Green orbs looking down at him, heavy and dark as they trail from Eddie’s eyes to his lips. Eddie’s breathe hitches at the sight, eyes dropping to the tantalizing lips so, so close…

But that's when Richie jolts back, eyes widening as if just now waking from a trance. He turns away but Eddie still catches the fear in Richie's eyes.

Richie heads for the door, not even looking back at him. Eddie almost thinks he imagined it but his voice comes out breathy when he replies with a dismissive, “Yeah, sure, fine.”

Eddie rolls his eyes as Richie scurries away. Well that answers the question if he’s still interested, but he's definitely going to have to do something about his tendency of fleeing the room. Eddie's not sure if it's the alcohol or that fact that it's their last night together before they all leave Derry or because he really likes it when Richie looks all nervous like that, but iron melds to Eddie's spine. His mind made up.

Tonight he is going to fuck Richie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! one more chapter! can you believe this was supposed to be a short fic? HA! 15k and i'm not even done. But good news, we are almost to the good part. ;)  
Smut ahoy!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long overdue update. Quarantine is doing at least one good thing, leaving me trapped in my apartment with my muse.  
This fic has also been updated to six chapters instead of five. I should know by now that I'm an extra bitch who cant write anything short and concise. *insert eye roll*
> 
> Also, thank you so much to everyone who had read and commented on this fic. Its probably way over said but these comments and kudos give me so much happiness.  
Still, thank you all so much and ENJOY!
> 
> XOXO

***Richie’s POV***

Richie makes it into his room and heads for the bathroom without much of a glance at Eddie. Once the door is closed he leans against it, head spinning and it's hardly from the alcohol.

Does he have no self-restraint? He isn't even drunk, well not completely, and he's eye raping Eddie. Probably didn't even need to be threatened by Pennywise to get him to violate his friend. Richie tears at his hair.

He takes a deep breath, he can do this. He just has to go out there and sleep. Its two separate beds even. No need to even touch.

Richie used the bathroom, washes his hand, and brushes his teeth. It settles the knots in his stomach to have the routine. His shoulders even relax as he goes for the door. He can do this. Eddie is probably already asleep. He'll just creep in and-

His eyes widen as he freezes in the doorway, brain shutting off at the image in front of him.

Eddie sits, leaning back on _his_ bed, with his arms crossed behind his head against the wooden head board... In only his boxers.

Shit, well, it's not like he brought pajamas from his room. And besides, he definitely has seen Eds in his underwear before, vaguely remembering all the Losers swimming in the gorge in just underwear as kids... Richie's eyes start to linger over that single item of clothing for a little too long when he finally snaps back to himself.

"Uh, the uh, bathroom." He hikes his thumb over his shoulder. "It's free if you want, uh..." He licks his lips, eyes casting around the room. "I'll just-"

He makes a break for the bed, the one that's still made, which is the oddest part about the whole thing. Sleeping in boxers is normal, Richie does it most of the time at home, but the fact that germaphobe Eddie would choose the messy, laid in sheets over the clean made ones is... Well, maybe Eddie is more drunk that he thought.

Richie shucks his jeans off, back turned away from Eddie and slides under the covers. He chances a look at Eddie as he turns to shut off his bedside lamp, a frown and annoyance radiating off his friend in waves. He's definitely missing something.

"Uhm, are you alright?"

Eddie scoffs. "Am I alright? _Am I alright?_"

Richie flinches. "You, I- I could always go sleep with Mike…"

"Like hell you are." Eddie says jolting upright. "You're sleeping with me, damn it."

Richie's mouth pops open at the same time Eddie blinks, eyes absorbing what Richie said and meant, then what he said. He can see it settling on him as the flush creeps up his neck to his hair line. Richie expects a flustered explanation to tumble out of Eddie's mouth. In reality his gaze hardens, mouth forming into a firm line as he doesn’t correct himself.

Nerves bubble up in Richie at the look, a hysterical laugh falling out that he cuts off with a cough. _This can't be real life._ "Want to uh, try that again, Eds?"

He ignores the scorned nickname, instead sliding to the edge of the bed, boxers hitching up to reveal more of his pale thighs. Richie's jaw aches at the sight, salivating to sinks into them.

A smirk pulls at Eddie's lips. "No, not really."

It’s unnerving how the table seems to have turned on Richie again, as if this week hasn't been enough of a hot garbage fire. Richie is a little too tired of emotional whiplash to deal with a drunken come on from his childhood crush.

He sighs. "Eddie, you're drunk. You can't-"

"Don't." Eddie snaps, cutting him off. His eyes flash, dark still but not with drunken lust, no that's quickly been traded for burning brown flames. "I've had people all my life telling me what's good for me, Richie. So don't you dare."

Richie swallows his tongue, breath catching at the steady glare in Eddie's dark eyes. Fuck is he hot when he's mad. Did he always know that? Maybe that's why he is always pissing Eddie off. Fuck, focus Richie.

"Shit, Eddie, I didn't mean to imply anything. It's just-" Richie falls back, laying down heavy on the bed and rubs a hand down his face. "I already took advantage of you once..."

Eddie sighs and sits down beside him. "No you didn't. And didn’t I tell you its fine? Yes, I know you don't think its consent but I really am Bi and... Well kissing you made me remember-"

Richie looks up, eyebrows pulling together. "Made you remember what?”

Eddie's steely gaze shrinks at the question, eyes refusing to connect with his. "It's just a saying. I only mean-"

"To hell it is!" Richie says with a grin. "Tell me. That’s the least you can do."

Eddie looks at him, lips twitching as he tries to hold in a smile. "Hey, I thought you felt indebted to _me_?"

"Well we both came out and you also kissed me without consent, so…"

"You did way more than kiss me." Eddie replies with a laugh. "And I came out to the all the Losers. Only Bev and I know you are gay. Hardly seems equal."

Richie’s breath is punched out of him, and he’s glad he is already laying down or his knees might have gave out on him. Regardless, the room spins as he jerks upright, stomach and heart dropping on the floor. He suspected but he didn't know, and now...

"_What_?"

***Eddie’s POV***

Eddie freezes at the narrowed gaze pointed in his direction and replays what he said back. He may still be a kind of drunk but it doesn't take long for his alcohol and lust filled mind to connect the dots.

"It's not what you think." Eddie says, holding his hands up in a placating manner.

It immediately makes him feel _more_ guilty and Richie seems less than calmed by the gesture. If anything, eyes that were shocked has switch to outrage, burning like two small suns. He mildly wonders if his glasses will work like a magnifying glass and Richie will be able to burn a hole in him with the heat of his gaze.

"So you didn't tell a secret that wasn't yours to tell?"

"Yes!" Eddie replies, nodding despite Richie's eyes narrowing in response. "I promise. She said she already kind of... Knew? Or remembered knowing or suspecting when we were kids. I don’t know exactly but I didn't say anything, I promise."

Richie stares for a moment longer before he deflates, eyes snapping close as he scrubs at them behind his frames. "Oh joy. As if this clusterfuck of a weekend couldn't get worse, now I have to have a super awkward conversation with not only my manager now but Beverly before I leave and hope and pray it doesn’t get out.”

Eddie frowns as Richie continues to ramble about damage control and probably having to pay people off if it gets out, basically doing a really impressive job of drunken catastrophizing the whole situation. He researched Richie as some point during the trip (for _reasons_) and he knows his whole stand-up revolves around him being a crass caricature of himself. But why he needs to keep his sexuality a secret is beyond him.

“Why does it matter?” Eddie finally blurts out, lips loose enough from the alcohol that curiosity wins out. “Why do you care so much if people know or not?”

Richie looks over at him and scoffs. “Says the man who had a couple of gay one night stands in college before marrying a woman.”

“Hey, fuck you, asshole.” Eddie says scooting closer to glare down at Richie, swaying a little in the process. “Don’t act as though you are the only one who went through judgmental looks, bullying, and internal gay panic.”

“Oh, poor you.” Richie says, rolling his eyes and stubbornly keeps staring at the ceiling. Clearly when he’s drunk he turns into a petulant child. “Try feeling like a gross freak for these urges you can’t control for years all the while the Bower’s gang does nothing but beat the shit out of you for it.”

“What? Is this a competition now? See who has the most gay trauma?” Eddie quips, snatching Richie’s glasses off his face. Two can be childish.

Richie finally looks at him, probably because nothing else is even close to being in focus. “No, I’m just saying don’t tell me coming out is as easy as oiling myself up, wearing a rainbow banana hammock, and throwing glitter in a gay pride parade.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at the imagery before connecting with Richie’s and collapsing into a fit of giggles, head falling heavy on Richie’s chest. Richie cracks a moment later, body rocking with the force of his laughter which makes Eddie crack even farther.

Eddie pulls himself together after a moment, sitting up properly to wipe the tears that have gathered in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” He says once his hiccupping giggles have subsided. “I didn’t mean to minimize your feelings. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

Richie sighs and sits up, grabbing his glasses that are resting in Eddie’s hand. “It’s okay. I know what you meant by it, it’s just… I worked so fucking hard to get where I’m at. I don’t want that all to go down the drain. I have fucking jokes about ‘girlfriends’ for fuck sake.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Well maybe if you wrote your own jokes for once…”

“Shut it, Eds.” Richie says with a smile before it dissipates with the darkening of his eyes. “Guess that kind of makes me less than desirable to mess around with, huh? So far in the closet R. Kelly pays me rent.”

Eddie groans even as Richie laughs at him own joke. “Uhg, never mind. Maybe you should pay someone to write your jokes.”

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you are really into me for my charm.” Richie says, running a hand from his messy curls only causing them to stick up in all directions as he flashes him a wink.

Eddie’s stomach flips at his stupid endearing smile and messy hair, mouth drying. “Yeah.” He agrees under his breath before grapping Richie by his graphic tee and pulling him close.

It’s short and soft despite the alcohol, tentative and all too aware of every misunderstood kiss before. Still Eddie melts into it, heart soaring at the simple touch that is over too soon.

Richie is the first to pull away, eyes dark and shiny. “Hey, can I show you something?”

“If this is where you pull out your dick I’m going to smack you upside your head.”

“Ha! No, I actually want to show you something, but it will require us to become presentable and leave the house.”

Eddie cocks his head, interest peaked. “I’ll put on pants.”


	6. Chapter 6

***Eddie’s POV***

It’s well past three in the morning by the time the make it too the covered bridge near the Barrens. They could have been there sooner but, as they’d passed the only twenty-four hour diner in town, it only took the smell of grease and bacon for them to get side tracked. Once their gurgling, alcohol filled stomach had been satisfied with carbs, caffeine, and sugar they were finally able to finish the trek out to the edge of town.

“Dude, I didn’t know leaving the house meant walking two miles.” Eddie says glaring down at his flip flops. “I would have brought better shoes.”

Richie shrugs. “We can always go back, it’s not the important anyways.” He lets out a dry chuckle. “I really just brought you out here to murder and hide your body in the Barren’s anyways. It’s not that-“

“Richie, shut up and keep walking, or I will take off a flip flop and beat you with it.”

He can tell Richie is getting nervous. Outside of him very obviously trying to flake on something he suggested, he barely touched his pancakes at the diner. And, while he wasn’t necessarily quiet (that would be beyond alarming), Eddie has caught Richie staring off into space, deep in thought multiple times now. For a guy who is normally constantly spewing anything that across his mind out into the ether, the fact that he is keeping some thoughts has Eddie’s stomach twisting tighter and tighter with every step.

Maybe he shouldn’t have had at the sixth strip of bacon…

“Okay, we are here.” Richie says, stopping about a hundred feet from the cover bridge.

“Dude, I’ve been to this bridge before. You ran me off my bike into the ditch over there when I was beating you in a race to the Hideout.” Eddie says gesturing behind him at where the bridge railing ends.

Richie’s eyes go unfocused and a smile stretches across his face. “Oh yeah.”

“Richie…”

“The Bridge isn’t what I want you to see, it’s this.” Richie says, point at the railing wooden railing next to him.

Eddie stakes a step forward and squints, the like from the nearby fence post barely illuminating anything. He’s not even sure how Richie is so sure it’s here. He’s about to say so when grainy wood becomes alight, Richie having pulled out his cellphone and turn on the flashlight for him to see. Eddie smiles in thanks and turns back to see what so important they had to walk two miles in the dead of night to see.

It so faint he almost misses the engraving, time having worn out the sharp cuts into its surface. But before he can turn and ask Richie what he is supposed to be looking at, he sees it. The blocky ‘R+E’ carved among the many other names and initials paired together for eternity in wood. A moment, feeling, face… captured forever in time.

Eddie chest constricts at the sight, the butterflies in his stomach transforming and swelling like a helium balloon. He’s almost lightheaded with the feeling, the dizzying rush of affection and hope. He stares at it, unable to look away.

“I was fourteen.” Richie says, starling Eddie out of his daze.

He looks over his shoulder and sees Richie was gotten closer but when their eyes meet he looks away, shoulder shrugging as if to play down the raw emotions spilling out of behind those frames.

Richie eyes glaze over as he stares at the small carving, getting lost in that moment. “It was the summer after, well, after all the shit with the missing kids and It. On Valentine’s Day you’d gotten chocolates from Susie Blevins,a nice, expensive box she’s got from the corner store. Do you remember them?”

“Yeah. Me, you, and Mike all ate them at the theatre while we laughed and watched all the trashy RomComs playing.” Eddie mumbles, the memory floating in like the tide from the recedes of his mind.

“Yeah, and way better than the handmade bullshit I had my mom help me make.” Richie chuckles. “I was almost too chicken shit to give them to you.”

He finally looks at Eddie, eyes shining in the low light. “And then you almost punch Mike upside the head for trying to eat them. Susie’s you shared but mine… Well, let’s just says it gave me the little hope in my chest that I wasn’t as big of a freak as I thought. That I wasn’t alone in this…”

Eddie smiles, shaking his head as he steps closer and looks up at his big, four-eyed doofus. “And what, exactly, is ‘this’?”

Richie looks away, hand coming to rub at the back of his neck and Eddie curses himself because that’s not what he wanted at all. And clearly jumping straight for the intimate bits hasn’t worked for him, so… in for a penny, in for a pound. If Richie can be honest, so can he.

“I slept with guys that looked like you in college.” Eddie blurts out, because really, if he didn’t he probably would have just pussy footed around it. Now it’s his turn to looks away, eyes leveling to Richie’s chest and face burning. “I didn’t realize at the time mind you, I had forgot. I thought I just had a… type. Dark curly hair, glasses,” he looks up to see Richie staring wide-eyed at him, “with a stupid fucking smile.”

Said smile shows itself, spreading across his friends face and lighting Eddie up from the inside out. They both move at the same time, hands grasping shirts and hair and teeth clicking as they mold together. It’s their first kiss, the first one that’s mattered at least. The first kiss with no misunderstandings or bullshit between them and it burns through Eddie like small embers being fanned to life.

When they finally pull away, Richie laughs breathlessly. “Fuck Eds. That is hot as hell. My highschool crush fucking my doppelgangers in college has to be the kinkiest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Shut it, Trashmouth.” Eddie says lips twisting as he fights back his own laugh. “Or I’ll just have to live with having the substitutes instead of the real thing.”

Richie groans low and pulls Eddie back in, pressing him back against the railing while his fingers pulling his head back and tongue traces his bottom lip. He rocks forward, a hard stiff outline digging into his abdomen.

“Fuck…” Eddie says pulling away.

“That’s the idea.” Richie says with a shitting eating grin that has Eddie twitching in his jeans. “Race you back?”

“You’re on, Tozier.”

***Richie’s POV***

They don’t, in fact, race all the way back.

Half because they drank and ate greasy diner food only a couple hours ago but also because Richie is hardly a spring chicken. He eventually has to call to Eddie, who is way farther ahead, that he wins. The smug smile on Eddie’s face when he finally catches up is so cute that Richie can’t help but kiss.

They walk back side by side, fingers grazing in a lazy manner that never truly turns into hand holding. Still too tentative about this new understanding between them, it was only yesterday that Richie thought he had ruined everything between them after all.

Also, of course, there’s the still being in the closet thing.

Richie swallows, stomach rolling at the two paths ahead of him. Because he can either stay in the closet and try and be with Eddie when he knows, eventually, it will ruin their relationship. Or, he can get over himself. Because now that he has Eddie, giving him up isn’t really a choice anymore.

He shuts the door to his room behind him and Eddie, his forehead falling heavy on the wood.

“Richie?”

He looks back, Eddie’s brows pinched together in concern that pulls at his heart. He wants to smooth it out, make a joke to let him know it’s going to be okay. Instead he leans back against the door and looks Eddie in the eye. “Did you mean it, when you said I would always be a Loser?”

Eddie blinks and straightens. “Of course.”

Richie swallows and looks down at the trashy, paisley carpet. “Even when I’m unemployed, smelling of Doritos, and living on your couch?”

“Richie…” He looks up, a wistful smile tugging at Eddie’s lips. “You already smell like Doritos. And to be honest, you already look like a deadbeat.”

Richie mouth pops open, a surprised laugh falling out in the process. “I’m wounded. I’m trying to have a heart-to-heart and you are mocking me.”

Eddie cocks a brow. “So now you want to hold hands and have a hear-to-heart?”

“Touché.”

He shakes his head and takes a step forward, boxing in Richie against the door. “But yes, Richie. I don’t care if you are poor, smelling like Doritos, and smudging cheese powder on my couch. I will always love you and you will, of course, always be a Loser.”

Richie blinks, eyes and nose burning as he tries to hold in the tidal wave of emotion collecting in his eyelashes. He sniffs and grins down at Eddie, his best friend and love of his life.

“You have a way with words, Eddie Spaghetti.” He says with a wobbly smile.

Eddie returns it. “Just fucking kiss me, Trashmouth.”

Richie leans in, when he pauses and jolts back. “Wait.”

“Tozier…” Eddie growls, eyes that were once closed snapping open in a glare. “If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next minute I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

Richie shivers and pulls him closer. “Shit…” He squeezes his eyes closed, unable to stand the dark gaze Eddie is giving him and think clearly at the same time. After a moment, he pulls away.

He walks across the room to the desk in the corner and pulls out the stack of papers there, a pen, and holds them out. Eddies brows furrow as he walks over and takes them but the confusion clears as he sees what they are.

“You know that’s not how it works right?” He says with a chuckle. “It doesn’t make it not cheating just because I sign this. A judge has to-“

“Yeah, well, humor me.” Richie replies, stomach fluttering. Even if it means nothing legally, it means something to him.

Eddie must see something in his face because he doesn’t argue. Just plops the document on the desk and starts to sign. It takes a moment but eventually he straightens and lets the pen clatter on the desk.

“Done?” Richie asks.

Eddie responds by tackling him, Richie’s back colliding with the wall with a dull thud, the back of his head protected by the hand in his hair. It’s a messy, uncoordinated affair at first, all desperate grasps at clothing in a frenzy Richie can’t ever remember feeling before. It chokes him of anything else, uncertainty fading with desire clawing its way out of him.

The eager thrust of his hips from Eddie has him pulling away from the desperate kiss, a gasping moan falling from his lips. The hard outline of his friends cock is impossible to miss where it’s pressed against his thigh, his own straining erection pressing into Eddie’s lower stomach. The desire that courses through him is like a lightning rod, thrumming and pulsing in a desperate need that makes him dizzy.

“Shit, Eds…” Richie gasps, “What are you, uh, cool with?” He manages to get out, the nagging in the back of his mind keeping him from going too far until he knows the line he can’t cross.

Eddie huffs a laugh and starts kissing his neck. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

“Eddie…” Richie warns as his friend starts to bite and scrap his teeth over his neck and clavicle, his skin tingling with every indention his teeth. “Please be serious.”

“I am being serious.” He says pulling away to look up at him, face flushed and lips bruised. It makes Richie’s knees weak. “If your closet status is anything to go by, I’m going to guess you’ve done way less than me. And let me tell you…” he pulls Richie in closer by his collar, lips hovering inches from his. “I was very thorough with my _experimenting_ in college.”

“Oh, god…” Richie groans, imagination helpfully _filling_ in the details, all the puns intended… Dildos, anal plugs, vibrators all filling- He shakes his head to clear that train of thought and licks his lips, mouth dry. “You really can’t say shit like that, Eddie.”

“Why? Are you going to blow your load in your pants or something?” Eddie says with a laugh, eyes playful despite hitting the nail on the, he he… _head._

Something must show on his face because Eddie pulls back slightly and looks him dead in the eyes. “Shit, really?”

Richie gives a shaky nod because, really, he has no shame at this point. To be honest, he probably wasn’t born with any.

“Fuck that’s hot.” Eddie says before dragging him back into another heated kiss.

It takes a lot of effort for them to drag themselves away from the wall and to the bed but eventually they make it, shirts and jeans being discarded along the way. Looking at Eddie below him, smooth chest and dilated eyes has his cock twitching in his boxers and rocking forward of their own accord. Which is when the logistics of sex comes slamming back to him.

“Uh, Eddie… I don’t have lube.” Then, after a beat. “Or condoms.”

A smile spreads across his friends face. “Well then you are lucky I am always prepared.”

Eddie twists and drags his discarded jeans from the ground and reaches into his pocket and pulls out multiple foil packets.

“Do you always bring condoms and lube when you take a weekend trip to fight killer, interdimensional clowns?” Richie asks with a cocked brow.

Eddie smacks his arm with a laugh. “No, you ass. Why do you think I went to the drug store earlier?”

“Hemorrhoid cream?”

“You know, I think I might go back to my room and cuddle with Mike instead.” Eddie says moving to roll out from under him.

“No, wait.” Richie says, dropping his weight to pin Eddie below him. “Kidding, just kidding.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh and wiggles under him and, despite his threat to leave, Richie can still feel his erection pressing into his stomach.

“If you want to make it up to me let me up.”

With a frown, Richie does as he is told and removes his weight from his friend. Eddie gets up and then guides him down onto the bed where he was just lying. The hungry gleam in Eddie’s eye as he looks him over making him shiver.

“Have you ever fingered another guy?”

Richie gulps and looks at the lube packet in Eddie’s grip. ”You mean besides myself?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s a start, I guess.” He says before tossing it onto Richie’s bare chest. He then reaches down and pulls off Richie’s boxers, exposing him. He’s about to complain when Eddie then proceeds to remove his own as well.

Richie’s mouth dries as the sight of Eddie’s cock, bobbing into view above his, rosy and leaking. He doesn’t even think about what Eddie had planned, most likely something that included Eddie taking on most of the work for Richie as if he’s a blushing virgin. Which he’s not, anal sex notwithstanding; it’s just easier to give hand jobs and blow jobs to strangers in dimly lit gay bars than full frontal penetration.) So, as much as he being ridden within an inch of his life sounds amazing, he ignores Eddie’s plan for what he wants.

Which is Eddie desperate and below him as he fucks him within an inch of his life.

It’s easy to flip their position, to grip Eddie’s hips and tackle him onto the bed. Even easier to slip Eddie’s hard length into his mouth and down his throat. He is, after all, good at this. He might not have the most exciting and varied sexual experience but if Richie knows one thing it’s that he has a big mouth, and he knows how to use it.

“Fuck- Richie…” Eddie groans as Richie takes him to the hilt, throat spasming at the sudden blunt intrusion. In hindsight, he might has gone too fast, if the twinge in his throat is anything to go by, but the way Eddie sinks into the bed with his hands gripping his hair make it worth it.

He sets up a fast rhythm, firm suction as he pulls up to the tip, a swirl of the tongue across the head and slit before plunging back down. The gasps and moans Eddie is making has his hands shaking as he rips the small packet of lube and pours it on his fingers. Eddie must be too lost in the sensation to know what’s going on outside of having his dick sucks because when Richie brings his slippery fingers to his perineum he sucks in a surprised gasp, hands moving to grip the bedsheets as an anchor.

“Richie, please…”

The soft plea has Richie growling out a moan and rubbing at the puckering hole, the soft skin there fluttering as he wiggles his way in. Because despite Eddie’s foray in gay sex, Richie can tell by how tight he is that it’s not something he’s indulged in for a long time. By himself or otherwise.

His talented tongue helps, the tight ring of muscle loosening even as he works two, then three fingers into him. The throb of Eddie’s cock pulses on Richie’s tongue and where his fingers are buried deep inside him, a warning in itself. It only takes a couple more swipes of his tongue and curl of his fingers into that bundle of nerve inside him before Eddie unravels.

“Richie…” He whines, hips bucking against the tight grip Richie has on him. “Fuck me, for the love of god, fuck me already.”

Richie pulls off, mouth and throat sore, and stares down at his best friend and lover. He rolls on a condom and lubes up his cock on autopilot, unable to keep his eyes off the sight below him. Eddie flushed down to his dark, perky nipples, tone compact body shivering in pleasure.

At the first nudge of his cock past that loosened muscle both of them groaning. It’s tight and the heat seems to travel from where he is buried deep in Eddie all the way up Richie’s spine. It leaves his head foggy, the sweet sensation clouding everything else out and making his next thrust reflexive.

“Ah!” Eddie gasps, back arching at the sharp thrust that has Richie’s eyes rolling even as he startles and freezes.

“Fuck, ah-“ Richie pants, “did, I uh, hurt you?”

Eddie groans, brows furrowed as he blink his eyes open, lips wet and parted. “Fuck no. Do it again.”

Richie doesn’t need to be told twice, his hips already pulling back to snap back into that tight channel. With every breath and thrust Eddie gasps and writhes below him, the wanton sight leaves Richie careening towards completion.

Desperate to bring Eddie towards it before him, Richie brings Eddie’s legs that are wrapped around his waist higher, looping one over each of his arms. It gives him a better grip, and a better view, while allowing him to thrust deeper and spear Eddie on his cock. Reaching his hand around Eddie’s thigh, Richie grabs his leaking erection.

It takes only a couple strokes for Eddie to start shaking, hands gripping the sheets flying above him to the headboard as he pushes himself harder onto Richie’s cock. Every muscle in his body tenses in desperation, open mouth spilling moans and gasps while still needing more.

Richie tumbles over the edge just as Eddie’s body clamps down on his cock, Richie’s name falling from his friend’s mouth in a shrill moan as his cum coats his hand. Richie’s limbs weaken all at once, his arms releasing Eddie’s legs as he collapse back on the bed behind him. Eddie groans as Richie’s cock is pulled from his body, arm falling over his eyes.

“Fuck…”

“Fuck indeed.” Richie says with a chuckle. “Who knew you could scream like that, Eddie Spaghetti.”

His friend groans from beneath his arm, hand smacking Richie’s thigh in reprimand. He’s pretty sure it would have been his head if was in reach, or if Eddie wasn’t so thoroughly fucked.

“You just have to ruin it, don’t you?” Eddie says, peaking beneath his arm at where Richie is lying at the end of the bed. “Just wait till I fuck you, you’re going to scream so loud even your boujee neighbors are going to know my name.”

Richie’s cock gives a valent twitch against his thigh where it’s still trapped like a slug in a plastic bag. He pulls off the condom, ties it and tosses it into the open bathroom. “Don’t tease Little Richie now.”

Eddie scoffs. “You are not calling your dick, Little Richie.”

“Why? It is because it’s can’t carry a tune? Cuz I’ll have you know, I play a mean skin flu-“

A pillow smacks Richie in the head, cutting off his ramble. He blinks, glasses skewed on face, and sees Eddie sitting up in bed, hair ruffled and grinning.

It’s too easy, oh so easy, to cup Eddie’s chin and pull him in close, lips connecting in warmth that radiates down to Richie’s core.

“Thank you.” He whispers against Eddie’s lips when he pulls away, eyes burning behind his closed eyelids. “For not giving up on me, for kicking me in the ass when I need it.”

“Hey,” Eddie says, a tug on his earlobe coaxing him into opening his eyes, “I’ll always been there for you. Gay panic and Killer Klowns from Outer Space be damned.”

“Noted.” Richie says with a smile before pulling away to pick up his underwear. “Think you can do me a favor and also help me with telling the others? Kind of rather get it the whole ‘coming out’ and ‘feelings’ out of the way before heading back to LA.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem…” Eddie says, looking down at the phone in his hand. “Look at your phone.”

Richie frowns but pulls his phone from his discarded jeans and sees a group messages with all the Losers in it.

**Beverly:** I mean it’s about time but Jesus Christ…

**Bill:** Please, for the love of God be quieter or I’m renting a hotel and sending you the bill.

**Ben:** I’m so happy for you guys!

**Bill:** I’m never going to be able to unhear this, you do know that right?

**Beverly:** I don’t know whether to be annoyed or jealous.

“We’ll, it looks like we only have to tell Mike at this point.” Eddie says pulling Richie from his phone screen, his cheeks bright red even in the low light.

And all Richie can do is laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg, this monster of a fic is done.  
everyone, thank you so much for reading. i really can't go into words about how much your reading, kudos, and comments mean to me. <3


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